


Please Don't Talk About Me When I'm Gone

by Rini, Saklani



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 01:36:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rini/pseuds/Rini, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saklani/pseuds/Saklani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has his way with women, since he only has one year to live.  Sam is sick of this behavior and figures out a way to make it stop.  But things work out in a way he didn’t expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Don't Talk About Me When I'm Gone

Sam stared at the ceiling of the dumpy little motel, counting the number of cracks in the ceiling. When he reached a higher number than the days left to Dean's life, he shuddered and turned over to stare at the door again. For the twentieth night in a row, which beat Dean's record as a teenager by five, Sam had been left alone so Dean could fuck some random chick he'd picked up in a bar. The silent room pressed in on him, reminding him that soon enough, unless he could pull a miracle out of his ass, this would be his reality. 

Dean pulled the Impala into the parking spot in front of their motel room, cutting the engine with a satisfied grin. He rubbed a hand over his face before sliding out of the car and shutting the door. Running his hand over her long hood, Dean ambled to the door, let himself in and shrugged out of his jacket. He caught Sam's gaze, and seeing the accusation, turned his back to drape the leather over a chair before sitting down to remove his boots.

"Hi to you, too," Sam said, turning back to face the ceiling. "It's almost time to get up and leave. Why do you even bother coming back?" 

"Hey, Sammy. What do you mean? I always come back." Dean stretched out his ankles, reaching down to tug off his socks. "Anyway, why aren't you sleeping?"

Sam looked at the clock, whose glowing numbers read 5:25 a.m. "I meant why do you bother? In another hour or two, we're going to hit the road anyway. If you're so determined not to waste a single moment of your remaining lifetime with me, other than on hunts, why not just come back when we leave?"

Blinking at Sam, Dean tilted his head. "What the hell are you talking about, Sam? I'm not wasting time on you. I'd have been back sooner, but well, you know how it goes." Dean stood and stretched toward the ceiling, one hand dropping to cover his yawn. No matter how he enjoyed it, a night full of sex with limited sleep left him a bit wrecked.

"Yeah, I know how it goes," Sam said. "You're a total douche who dumps me every night in favor of anything with breasts and a willingness to drop her panties- that's how it goes."

Dean turned to Sam, eyebrows raised. "What the fuck has your panties in a twist, Samantha? You’ve never had a problem with me getting laid before." He looked at Sam carefully, noting the dark circles under his eyes.

"Twenty fucking nights in a row, Dean. You'll be lucky your cock doesn't fall off before you go to Hell!" Sam bit his tongue, tasting copper, angry at himself and at his brother. Especially at him.

Dean hadn't been counting, so the fact that Sam knew the number of nights he'd gotten laid made Dean raise an eyebrow. "Keeping awfully close tabs on me there, Sam. Didn't know you cared so much." Dean scratched idly at his stomach and thought about what Sam was saying. "Fine, next town, you and I'll spend a couple of nights in. Get some pizza and beer, watch some TV."

"Fuck you, Dean," Sam hissed, eyes narrowed into slits. 

Dean narrowed his eyes to match Sam's. "Gotcha. Just want your turn." He chuckled harshly. "Fuck off, Sam. I'm getting my shower." Turning to the bathroom, Dean grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and stripped it over his head.

"You're going to die in less than a year, so fuck you very much if you deigning to stay in with me for a couple of nights is hardly cause to make me thank you, Dean." Sam stood and glared at Dean, folding his muscular arms over his chest. "You got fuck all cause to go saying **I** don't care. It's you acting like I don't matter, not the other way around." 

"What the hell are you talking about Sam?" Dean felt like a broken record. He turned to Sam and spread his arms wide. "You spend your time huddled over the computer, reading all kinds of books - just looking for ways to get me out of this deal. I can't take part in that, so sue me if I want to go out and have fun."

"I've always done the research when we've been together. And you've never pulled this kind of crap. Sure, you pick up girls, but not every fucking night. And you managed to get in early enough that I could at least talk to you most of the time before." Sam's anger filled every pore of his body, and he could imagine it seeping from him like blood and sweat. 

"What part of I can't be involved in the research did you forget, Sam?" Dean snorted, scrubbing at his face, grimacing at the layer of stubble as well as the cotton mouth he sported. "You can't talk to me about it; I can't have anything to do with it or you're dead." The last of his statement came out with a hint of desperation. He'd done what he'd done to save Sam, and Dean was damned if he'd do anything to jeopardize that.

"The part where you sit in the room and just be here with me, cleaning guns or doing all the stuff you used to do and I don't talk to you about it," Sam said. "The part where you don't pretend that you think I'm doing research until five-fucking-thirty a.m.!" 

Dean dropped into the chair behind him, stretching his legs out and staring at Sam. "I already said that I'd stay in a few nights, and you're still fighting me. What do you want from me, Sam?" The thought of spending time in Sam's presence hurt. Dean was not sure he'd be able to sit with Sam each night and fight off the desire he'd been struggling to hide since Sam came back to life.

"So, you really don't think there's a problem then?" Sam asked, voice hurt and low. He dropped his arms and curled his hands into fists. "I'm just making up the fact that you avoid me whenever possible?"

"I'm not avoiding you, Sam." Dean wanted to believe he was telling Sam the truth. "I didn't realize you minded."

"Hnh," Sam grunted in a way that clearly expressed disbelief to both dumbass statements. 

"So, how long is a bit?" Dean asked.

"Every night would be nice," Sam said. 

Dean gaped, tried to reply and then simply nodded. "Okay, Sammy." he said, exhaustion creeping into his words once the fight drained out of him. "I'll do my best to be home with you every night." He knew better than to promise every night, but Dean would do his best to give Sam what he wanted. He always did.

Sam blinked, caught completely off guard by Dean's response. "Well, good then." He sat down on his bed, unsure what to do or feel. "You better get your shower. We can leave later, I guess. The next job can wait a few extra hours." 

"Get some sleep, Sam. I'll set the alarm so we get up before check out." Dean stood, stretched again while scratching at his stomach. He rummaged for his cell phone and set an alarm for ten-thirty, knowing they'd be good with the half hour that gave them to clear out. With a sideways glance at Sam, Dean moved toward the bathroom and a blistering hot shower.  
~~~~~~~

Dean flipped through the channels one more time, his fourth bottle of beer in his hand, while the empties littered the table by his side.  He'd eaten pizza, watched some _Three Stooges_ and done his level best to _not_ stare at Sam.  The togetherness wore him thin- the desire to touch Sam, to hold Sam, eating at his gut.  Dean was almost drowning in his awareness of his brother and all the things he'd been longing to do to him.

From the bed beside Dean, Sam turned a bewildered expression on his older brother.  Dean's irritability and drinking had notched up every night he stayed in with Sam.  By now, the end of a full week, the tension was nigh on unbearable.   "Is it really so bad to be around me?" he asked.

Eyes shooting to Sam's, Dean hid his panic, or tried to, and shook his head.  "What makes you say that, Sammy?"  He fiddled with the paper label on his bottle of beer, completely unaware that his nerves were showing through.  "Just sitting here, enjoying my beer."

"Dean, you're rushing toward getting yourself blitzed again."  Sam sighed and set down the book he had been reading.  "I guess I hadn't realized how badly you don’t want to be around me.  I'm sorry."

Dean opened and closed his mouth, slamming back the rest of his beer, before putting the bottle on the table with the others.  He swiped a hand over his mouth and then tipped his head back against the wall.  How did he tell his brother that his mere presence was an ache in Dean's soul and that knowing he was doomed for Hell had loosened the reins on his desire?  "You got it all wrong, Sam.  I want to be with you."

Sam stared at the empty bottles on the nightstand and then back at Dean, wondering why his brother felt it necessary to lie.   "Would it be easier on you if I left for awhile?" he offered.  "I could hammer out more research, and you wouldn't have to suffer my presence.  I mean... if these are your last days, you shouldn't have to spend them with someone you don't want to be around."

"Jesus, Sammy, no."  Dean looked at Sam, sadness and desperation flooding his eyes.  "The last thing I want is for you to do is leave."  Dean couldn't have meant that more if he'd written it in his blood. 

"Well, we can't go on like this," Sam said, folding his arms across his chest.  "I guess I'm just going to have to get used to waiting around in the dark for you to get back from fucking half the continent.  Not how I'd like to spend the last year with you, but this-" he gestured to the bottles and the TV "-this is no better."

"I'm no good sitting around, Sam.  You know that."  Dean tipped his head back into the wall again.  The last thing he wanted was Sam feeling like he was second best, but he couldn't tell his brother how much he did matter.  "Compromise?  I'll do my best to be here, but you won't bust my balls if I disappear for a night or two?"

"Dude, being here is pointless."  Sam rolled off the bed and collected the empties, dumping them in a paper bag in the corner of the room, so they rattled loudly against the bottles from the previous night.  He shook his head and went into the bathroom.  "Just leave."

Watching the closed door for a minute, Dean hopped up from the bed to tug on his jeans and jam his feet into his boots.  He did the laces up in no time and grabbed his leather jacket.  There was no way he was driving his baby with this much alcohol in him, so Dean made sure his wallet was in his back pocket and headed down the road to the bar they'd passed on the way into town. 

Sam returned to the empty room and sighed.  Whatever Dean said, it was obvious that Sam was the cause of his unhappiness.  He headed for his duffle, grabbing a fresh pair of jeans and some shirts.  He began to clean up the room and pack away his books, turning on his laptop so he could find the fastest way out of town.  
~~~~~~~

Dean did his pants back up, pulling Libby in for another kiss while one hand trailed down her back and over the curve of her ass.  She'd not asked him home, so he was guessing she was as happy with the back room at the bar as he was.  Libby turned out to be his favorite kind of girl - independent and happy to have him out the door as soon as the sex was done.  He shrugged into his jacket and headed back to the motel room, whistling happily now that he was relaxed again.

Sam's duffle sat by the door, ready to go.  He had purchased a ticket on the midnight bus, bound for Las Vegas.  He felt a sad sense of deja vu, buying late night bus tickets to sneak out on his family.  But fuck, this situation was stupid and pointless.  He would let Dean know he was safe later, so his big brother wouldn't have to worry about him.  His plan was to hole up somewhere cheap, find a job that provided him enough for rent and find Dean a way out of his deal.

He tapped the pencil against the piece of paper on which he was trying to compose a note of farewell.  Words could not express what he wanted to say, so Sam finally signed the note, folded it up and pushed it to the center of the table.  Grabbing his hoodie and duffle, he opened the door and strolled out, heading for the bus stop he had seen in the middle of town.

A few moments later, Dean arrived, pulled out his room key and let himself in.  The darkness stopped him quick, and he looked down to be sure the salt line was still intact.  He reached out to flick on the light and immediately noticed that Sam and all of his things were gone.  _God damn that little bastard._   Dean moved to the note he saw on the table, read it, crumpled it and headed back out the door of the room toward town.  He went in the opposite direction from the bar.

Sam took his time walking, enjoying the warm night.  The bus wasn't leaving for a couple of hours, and if Dean held to form, he wouldn’t return to the motel room any earlier than four a.m.   The loneliness already twisted inside his stomach, but he pushed it resolutely away.  Instead, he concentrated his thoughts on the next avenues to explore to get Dean out of the deal. 

Dean walked with purpose, not exactly tracking Sam, but definitely hot on his heels.  Dean figured Sam wouldn't actually leave town right away.  Of course, he had no idea what kind of public transportation was available or what the schedule might be.  Picking up his pace, Dean turned the corner and saw someone who looked like Sam walking a few blocks up.

Sam crossed the main drag, heading for the tiny bus stop.  He had his online receipt tucked in his hoodie pocket and over an hour and a half left to wait.  Sliding into the empty bench at the stop, he pulled out his latest book for researching and began reading again.

With someone he thought was Sam in sight, Dean slowed his pace marginally, though he still closed in.  It took him about four blocks to get close enough to realize that it wasn't Sam.  Time was running out, and Dean had no idea where his brother actually was.  He took several deep breaths and then realized that Sam would go for a bus.  He _always_ went for a bus.  There was a station in the downtown area, so Dean made a hard left and headed over two blocks.

Sam glanced at the time impatiently and then returned to the old book.  There were a few ideas he thought might be worth pursuing...  Pounding footsteps interrupted his thoughts, and he automatically reached for his gun.  Until the figure emerged from the darkness.  

_Fuck._ "Hi, Dean."

"Don't fucking, 'Hi Dean' me, Sam," Dean growled, reaching down and hauling Sam to his feet.  "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"  He may not have been taller than his brother any longer, but Dean still exuded menace and anger as well as he did when Sam was smaller.

"Going to Vegas," Sam said, tilting his head to look Dean in the eye.   "Figured I'd find a cheap place to rent and do some serious research."  He kept check on his own emotions, voice steady and eyes calm.

"Vegas?"  Dean blinked and stepped back.  Sam's choice of destination was a slap in the face.  How many times had he tried to get his brother to swing through that town only to be rebuffed?  "Why'd you leave?"

"Well, that was the main destination of the midnight bus.  And they do have cheap places to live and access to a large library," Sam said, ever practical.  "Dude, the reason I left is glaringly obvious.   You can't stand to be around me.  So, I'm making sure you don't have to be.  And I know your big brother guilt complex thing would never allow you to leave, so I'll do it."

"I don't want you to leave, Sam, and I don't want to leave, either."  Dean huffed out a breath and scrubbed a hand over his head.  "Will you come back with me?"

"For more of the same?" Sam asked, hands spread.  "You with me, wanting to be elsewhere?  Or me sitting in a dark room alone every night, waiting for you to get back from your most recent fuck?  What's the point, Dean?"

Dean glared at Sam.  "I didn't keep you waiting tonight, Sam.  In fact, I was back not long after you left, since I made it here when I did."  Dropping his arms to his side, he spread them in supplication.  "Please don't leave me alone during my last few months, Sam.  I want you with me."

"Why say words you don't mean?" Sam asked, heart tightening at the appeal.  "Why are you acting the way you are if you want me around?"  

"Can we not do this here?" Dean asked, voice a low grumble, while he shoved his hands in his pockets.  "There's no one I'd rather spend my last months with than you, even if I make pit stops with a few other people along the way.  I want you with me, Sam.  You're my brother."

"I tried doing this elsewhere, but that didn't work out.  So, here it is."  Sam glanced at the time.  "You have forty-five minutes to convince me to stay.   And dude, the only time we spend together is on hunts and driving between hunts.  Every other minute you spend on these little 'pit stops' of yours.  So, yeah, try again."

"What do you want from me, Sam?  I've tried to give you every minute for the past four days and then you complained about the way I was spending that time.  You told me go out, so I did, and when I came back you were gone."  Dean shrugged his shoulders, defeat settling across them.  "From where I'm standing, you're the one who can't get away fast enough.  I should have expected it, I guess.  You couldn't get away from me fast enough when you finally were old enough to leave, either."  He took a few steps back.  "Never mind, Sam.  Sorry I bothered you.  Go to Vegas, get a start at the life you'll have once I'm gone, anyway." 

"Yeah, that was convincing," Sam said, tapping his foot on the ground.  "Second verse, same as the first- Sammy doesn't love me, Sammy always leaves, Sammy doesn't care about his family."  He made a disgusted snorting sound.  "You spent every minute of the last four nights trying to make yourself as drunk as possible as fast as possible and then passing out.  Not exactly quality time there, Dean.  And if busting my ass to prevent you from going to Hell or getting you out of Hell is what you call starting a new life then, yay, go me."

Dean had turned around, ready to leave, until Sam's biting sarcasm made him face his brother again.  "I never asked you to look for a way to save me, Sam.  Do you really think that I want to spend my last few months sitting on a bed, watching you waste away?  In all the time I've spent with you, all you do is sit there, staring at the laptop or some book, while the circles under your eyes grow bigger and darker and your clothes hang on you."  Snorting, Dean shoved his hands back in his pocket.  "Yeah, that's the fun I want to have for my last months of life.  I want my fucking _brother_ , Sam.  I want you by my side, having some fun and enjoying the fact that I’m here now.  Because if you don't find a way to save my sorry ass, then you'll have spent what little time you had with me with your nose buried in a book."

“And I never asked you to save mine, either," Sam shot back.  "And if I had made the same deal, we wouldn't even be hunting right now.  You'd have us locked in a room somewhere, researching until your eyeballs fell out!"   He threw his arms in the air, a gesture of complete exasperation.  "Oh, you mean like all those times we've been in a bar or a diner or someplace together, me not researching, and you've enjoyed our fun **together** by running after the first piece of ass that walked by?"  

Looking at Sam, Dean sighed.  There was nothing he could say because Sam was right.  He had gone after everyone but the one person he wanted.  “I can't have what I want."

That sounded like the truth, but only made Sam more confused.  "What do you mean? What are you talking about?"  He stepped forward, trying to read Dean's expression and eyes.  "What do you want?"

He was going to Hell anyway, so Dean gave in. "You."  He moved into Sam's space, pushed him against the wall and kissed him, desperation pouring off his body while he waited for the inevitable shove or punch.  Until it came, Dean was going to use the element of surprise to get a taste of Sam.

Sam flailed for a moment, before his big hands landed on Dean's shoulders.  His mouth opened under the desperate assault, trying to soothe and calm.  Heart trembling in his chest, Sam's brain raced to catch up, putting together all of the clues and realizing that this was an unlikely, but logical, conclusion to recent events.

When Sam's hands landed on his shoulders, Dean flinched, but held his ground.  He poured everything he felt for Sam into the kiss, moving in closer and sliding one hand up Sam's jacket to curl around the side of his neck.  Dean groaned softly, flicked his tongue at the seam of Sam's lips and waited to see if Sam would let him in.

Unable to refuse the request, Sam opened his mouth and allowed Dean's tongue inside, teasing it with his own. His hands slid down to rest on Dean's slim waist, caressing in small circles. He moaned softly when Dean showed no sign of letting him go, feeling the emotions Dean poured into their embrace.

Enjoying the kiss far more than even he'd imagined, Dean tangled tongues with Sam, his thumb rubbing over the pulse in Sam's throat. He groaned and then shuddered, pulling back enough to look at his brother. When his vision cleared and Dean actually saw Sam, his eyes widened in shock and he pulled away. "Fuck." He never meant for this to happen and Sam would leave anyway.

"Not right here in the street," Sam said stepping forward to grab Dean's waist. He glanced at the time again and smiled. "You convinced me... and with plenty of time to spare." He ducked his head and captured Dean's mouth, leading the kiss himself this time.

Dean sank into Sam's touch, kissing him back hard and clutching at Sam's shoulders. He pushed closer, until Sam was against the wall and Dean pressed along his whole body.

Well, Sam led the kiss until Dean did his impression of boa constrictor and wrapped himself around Sam. He gently pushed Dean back, holding him at bay, and smiled. "Want to go back to the motel now, Dean?"

"Yeah," Dean croaked out, stepping back and clearing his throat. He looked at Sam, cheeks coloring slightly. The privacy of their room was exactly what he wanted.

Sam picked up his duffle and bumped his shoulder against Dean's gently. "I never wanted to leave, you know. You're all I want, Dean."

"You gave me a hell of a scare, Sammy, running away." Dean shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging his shoulders. "The last thing I want is to lose you, especially with so little time left."

The thought of the deal turned Sam's blood to ice, but he firmly pushed it aside, at least for the night. "I didn't know what else to do to get you to talk to me." Sam threw his arm over Dean's shoulders and pulled him close. "You've been even less communicative than usual. But I get it now, and that's all that matters."

Dean wrapped his arm around Sam’s shoulder, holding him tight to his side. "Just don't leave me, Sam. Stay with me until the end, okay?"

"That's going to be a long time," Sam said, "if I have anything to say about it." He ducked his head to smile shyly at Dean. "No more random chicks?"

Opening his mouth to scoff at Sam, Dean looked at Sam's face, closed his mouth and nodded. "No more random chicks, Sammy." 

Sam paused in the middle of Main Street, which was practically deserted, reached out and pulled Dean into a long, deep kiss. He deliberately reached down and squeezed two large handfuls of Dean's ass. "I'll make sure you have no energy for anybody else anyway."

Dean curled around Sam, kissing him back and then shaking in his arms when Sam gripped his ass. He chuckled and pulled back, dropping his forehead to Sam's shoulder. "Let's take this show back to our room."

"What, a back alley isn't good enough for you now?" Sam teased. He released Dean, slinging the arm back around his shoulders and continued toward their room. "Course, I'm the top."

"Like hell, Sam." Dean looked at him sideways. "I'm the top, and you can just get used to that." They took a few more steps and Dean bumped Sam's hip. "Back alley's not good enough for _you,_ Sammy."

Sam grinned, wide and dirty. "You're just afraid you won't be up to taking what I can give you," he purred with a filthy gesture toward his cock. Inward, he beamed at the idea that Dean did not consider an alley good enough for them. But not enough to break game face. 

"Fuck that, Sam. I can take whatever you have to dish out, but it doesn't mean that I plan on doing so." Dean bumped Sam's hip again and chuckled low. 

Sam laughed and shook his head. "And what makes you think I'm just going to roll over and take it from you?" he asked, fingers tickling Dean's nape.

Dean grinned at Sam, shrugging his shoulders at the tickle, though he didn't really want Sam to move his hand.  "Because you wouldn't deny me my dying wish."

Sam snorted and tugged hard on the strands of hair in his fingers. "Jerk. You know if I asked you sweetly enough, you'd do anything for me."

"You've always been able to do that, Sammy." Dean shrugged; it was no secret that his little brother had him wrapped around his finger his whole life.

Sam stopped and pulled Dean into a soft kiss, chewing on his lower lip until the whole area swelled. He caressed Dean's back and over his ass in gentle strokes, trying to arouse him. "I want you, Dean."

Groaning into Sam's mouth, Dean rocked forward and grabbed his shoulders to hold on for the kiss. "I want you, too, Sammy. Have for a long time now."

"How long, Dean?" Sam asked, mouthing Dean's ear and nibbling the lobe. "How long have you denied yourself?"

"You don't want to know." Dean shuddered against Sam, tilting his head for greater access and closing his eyes. He cupped one hand around Sam's jaw and swiped his thumb over his cheekbone.

"When I was a teenager?" Sam asked, licking a stripe up his neck. "Watching me fill out and grow taller. Did you jerk off thinking of me, Dean? Was I a wet dream for you?"

"Yeah. More than once, Sam." Sighing, Dean opened his eyes and tilted his head back down for a heated kiss. "And any number of times since you've been back."

"And you never told me," Sam said. "You never would have." He nuzzled the pulse point of Dean's neck, inhaling the warm scent. "I want to be in you, Dean."

Dean shuddered again, eyes closing while he clung to Sam. He shook his head gently. "Not tonight, Sam. Please. I've dreamt of you, of being inside you...for so long." 

Sam laughed and separated from Dean, taking his hand and leading him down the last street to the motel. He beamed at the old sign with the V and the Y missing. "Never thought an ugly old motel would look so good."

Dean agreed with Sam on that one. The sign flickered in the darkness, gleaming off his baby in front of their room. When they walked past, he stroked over her lines and turned to smile at Sam. "They've been our homes, Sam. For good or bad." 

Sam stopped and leaned against the car hood, setting down his bag. "Where you are is my home." He stroked the sleek car, eyes shadowed for a moment. "Even Stanford was never really home to me."

"No? You were doing well there, Sam." Dean's cheeks heated when he shot Sam a look from the corner of his eye. "I checked up on you a few times, and you seemed to fit right in. You seemed happy."

"I did fit in. I liked it there. Liked the people, the classes... Jess. But it was never really home cause you weren't there." Sam shrugged and leaned back against the car for another moment, before asking, "Aren't you curious about my taking this so well?"

Blinking, Dean shrugged. "I’m trying not to think about it. Don’t want to chance that you'd change your mind. There's too much at stake."

Sam reached out toward Dean, offering his hand for his brother to take. "I'm not going to change my mind, Dean. I love you. I haven't always loved you the way I do now, but my love isn't going to change because you decide to accept it. Especially not if you decide to accept it."

Dean took Sam's hand, twining their fingers together. "When did you know you loved me, Sam?"

Sam smiled and shook his head. "To paraphrase a famous book, I cannot fix the hour or the day. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun."1 He pulled Dean close and stroked his cheek. "Sorry for being chick flick, but that's how it was... and is."

Laughing, Dean closed his eyes and tilted his head into Sam's hand. He breathed out, slow and even, before he opened his eyes and pulled Sam in for a long, hard kiss. When he pulled back, Dean leaned his forehead against Sam's. "Let's go inside the room, Sammy."

"Ok." Sam pushed off the car and crowded into Dean, herding him toward their room. "So, we satisfied now?"

"Satisfied?" Dean looked up at Sam, hand closing on Sam’s hips while walking backward until they were far enough in the room for the door to swing shut. 

"That this is what we both want, and there's no going back?" Sam paused by the edge of the bed, hands on Dean's waist, big and gentle.

"Yeah, Sammy. As long as this is what you want, then I will never turn back. I will never look back." Dean leaned in and kissed Sam, soft and slow this time.

Sam toppled them back on the bed, letting Dean land on top.  He fisted one hand in Dean's jacket and curled the other around the back of his head, pulling him deeper into his embrace.  Long legs spread to fit Dean between them, lining up their cocks with surprising ease.  Thrusting into the heat and hardness of Dean, Sam moaned into the kiss.

Laughing while they bounced on the bed, Dean kept the kiss going though he groaned when he felt Sam's cock slot next to his and rub along his hip.  He braced his hands on either side of Sam's head and slid his body slowly up and down, feeling Sam grow harder for him.

"You were with someone else tonight," Sam said, and it wasn't a question, but it wasn't angry either.  He reached between them and stroked Dean lightly.   "But you're hard as a teenager with his first boyfriend."

Dean flushed, groaning and pressing into Sam's hand.  "No one's ever been able to compare to you, Sam."

Sam huffed a soft laugh and unzipped Dean's jeans, stripping back the sides and rubbing against the moisture pooling on Dean's boxers.  "All those women.  All that meaningless sex.  What a waste."

Opening his mouth to refute Sam's statement, Dean looked at Sam and then groaned at the soft swipe of his thumb over the damp material covering the head of his cock.  He shuddered hard and ducked his head to pant hotly over Sam's collarbone.

"You really want to put this in me?" Sam whispered, pulling down the boxers and exposing Dean to the air.  He didn’t waste time, but gripped Dean with an expert hand and began to play with him easily.

Unable to think with Sam's hand on his dick, Dean dropped his head to Sam's shoulder and shuddered through the touches.  He managed a couple of 'yeahs' and 'oh gods' while trembling above his brother.

Sam laughed and mouthed Dean's ear.  "Dude, you're not going to last long enough to even think about fucking me."  He did not tease any longer, licking his palm and giving Dean what he obviously craved.

Dean groaned, hitched his hips into Sam's grasp once, twice and then toppled to his side to reach down and stop Sam.  He tangled their fingers and brought Sam's hand up to his chest.  "Don't want to come this way, Sam. Not yet."  He leaned in to kiss Sam hard and then rolled to his back to suck in some air. He shucked off his clothes before starting in on Sam's.

Sam snorted and batted at Dean's hands playfully, rolling away.  "Pushy.  I was enjoying doing that."  
"Yeah, but later, Sam."  Dean grinned and reached out and stroked the bare skin Sam revealed inch by torturous inch.  He touched and tickled wherever he could reach.  "There's so much else I want with you."

Sam ducked his head and hid a shy little smile, before wriggling out of his jeans and boxers.  He uncurled slowly so Dean could take him in fully... and there was a **lot** of him.  "Anything you want," he said, teasing gone.

Dean stretched his hand up.  "Come back to bed, Sam."  Sweeping his gaze over his brother, Dean couldn't help but stop and take in the sight of his hard cock.  Dean wanted to touch, to taste and he shivered at the thought.  "Need to touch you."

"I'm amenable to that plan," Sam said and flopped to lie next to Dean on his side, head propped up on one hand.  He traced the line of Dean's throat, over his collarbone and back up, tugging gently on his lip.  "As long as I get to touch, too."

"Yeah, only maybe not right away."  Dean grinned and slicked his tongue out to pull Sam's finger in his mouth.  He sucked lightly while rolling Sam to his back and then pressed kisses down Sam's chest, tongue trailing over skin, muscle and the hard nubs of Sam's nipples.

Sam arched and growled softly at Dean, hands smoothing over his hair and neck and back.  "Where do you think you're going?"

"Wherever I like, Sammy."  Dean looked up Sam's body, eyes glinting with desire and affection before he dipped his head to swirl his tongue in Sam's navel.  He wanted to revel in his brother. 

Sam honest-to-God giggled and pushed his brother away from his ticklish navel, pulling him up for a kiss.  He pulled Dean so they rested cock-to-cock and thrust slowly while they kissed, mimicking the motion with his tongue.

Dean sighed into Sam's mouth, returning the kiss even while his hands trailed softly wherever he could reach.  Finally, his fingers settled on Sam's hips so they could rock together on the bed, heightening their pleasure.  "Wanna taste you, Sam." Dean whispered into his brother's mouth.

Sam blended a groan and a laugh at the same time, working with Dean's hands. "Plenty of time, Dean," he reassured gently. "Don't rush."

"I want everything, Sam." Dean didn't have the heart to remind Sam that he was on borrowed time; after all, he didn't want to think about that either. "What do you want, then?"

"Can't we just go slowly for the moment?" Sam asked, kissing Dean. "The way we are? Don't you like this?"

Smiling, Dean nodded and kissed Sam equally gently. He rolled them onto their sides and slid one leg over Sam's. Dean took his time exploring, his hand curled around Sam's throat and thumb stroking at his jaw while they traded lazy kisses.

Sam wondered how often Dean got to take things slow and sweet with anyone. He liked the easy pace they found together, neither pushing the other, just allowing their bodies and desires to lead the way. When they parted lips again, Sam sighed into Dean's mouth. "I've missed this."

Dean cocked an eyebrow at Sam. "Missed this? Uh, Sammy, we've never had _this_ before."

Sam laughed and shook his head. "I meant having someone like this. Someone to hold and love and be with." He kissed Dean's eyebrow and then his wicked mouth. 

Unable to respond unless he wanted to break the kiss, Dean sank into Sam and let his brother take over. It was a luxury that Dean had only had with one other person and even she was only around for a couple of weeks. 

Sam felt the change in Dean, the gentle give that left Dean pliant and trusting in his arms. He smiled into Dean's green eyes and reached down to jack Dean's cock slow and thorough. "Do you like this?"

"Yeah, Sam." Dean shifted slightly, as much as he could on his side. He rolled his hips back from Sam's to give Sam better access to his cock. Craving the touch, yearning to touch Sam in the same way, Dean let Sam lead since he'd been insistent on the pace and the touching.

Sam watched Dean's face while he stroked and squeezed. Occasionally, he reached back to fondle Dean's balls, their weight heavy and perfect in his hand. He flicked a finger through the liquid at the head of Dean's cock, sucking and smiling approval of the flavor. "Taste good, Dean."

Dean shuddered against Sam. "So you get to touch, but I don't?" Dean asked, chuckling low and dirty in the wake of Sam tasting him. He arched and thrust his cock into Sam's grip.

"Who said you don't get to touch?" Sam asked, pausing to study Dean with aroused, but puzzled, eyes. His hands trailed lightly over Dean's cock, not moving much more than a few centimeters.

"You stopped me from touching you." Dean trembled at the light touch, keeping his hips still. 

Sam frowned and tried to remember that and then shook his head. "I didn't. You made me stop before." Getting confused was not sexy, but Sam stopped everything to get Dean to explain. "I asked for us to go slower."

Dean didn't want to get into semantics, but arched an eyebrow at Sam. "And then you touched my dick again... after stopping me from moving below your belly button." He shrugged and looked Sam in the eyes. "Do you not want me to touch you?"

Sam shook his head, eyes wide and honest. "No, Dean. I do." He kissed Dean softly. "I'm glad you told me." He took Dean's hand and brought it down to his own cock. "Whatever you want."

Returning the kiss, deepening it, Dean curled his hand around Sam and stroked him gently at first. He tightened his grip slowly, stroking harder and faster while pressing his cock into Sam's fist. "Love you, Sammy," he groaned, pulling back.

"Dean," Sam whispered, voice torn with need. "I love you, Dean. Love this. Want this." His hips thrust helplessly into Dean's grip, even while he stroked Dean faster, wanting to see him come.

Dean hadn't exactly wanted them to stroke each other off this first time, but knew there was a certain amount of poeticism in it. He was far too worked up for this to go another way, anyway. Every minute that he'd dreamt of Sam was coming true.

Sam's hips stuttered, and his eyes shut on a long, drawn out groan.  "Want you so much, Dean.  So close.  Please, make me come."

"God, yeah, I got you, Sammy."  Dean sped his hand up, strokes shorter and quicker, slightly harder while he watched and listened to Sam come apart in his arms.  The experience was heady and intoxicating, making Dean moan and ache.

Back arching, Sam exploded over Dean's fingers.  His orgasm was drawn out, spattering fluid everywhere, until he relaxed with a last little moan.  His hand had stilled on Dean, but once he pulled together some of his wits, he worked to give Dean the same pleasure.

Dean watched Sam come and then relax into the bed.  His cock ached in Sam's lax grip and just when he was considering taking matters into his own hand, Sam tightened his grip and started to stroke again.  He trembled next to Sam, hand grasping at his brother for balance.

Sam leaned forward to capture Dean's mouth for a brief kiss.  And then he leaned his forehead against Dean's, still stroking and said, "You're so fucking hot, Dean.  All muscle.  Want to fuck your beautiful ass until you scream.  Choke on your cock in my mouth.  Lick every inch of you until you whimper for release."

The dirty talk was as unexpected as everything else, and Dean came, surprised, somewhere between Sam talking about fucking him and choking on his cock. He pulsed over Sam’s hand while gripping him tight.  

Sam eased Dean down with gentle touches and then scooped some of Dean's and his release in his right hand, before sucking it off.  Pleased, he rolled to his knees and began to clean Dean with long sweeps of his tongue, determined to find every droplet.

Trembling, Dean twitched a few times in the wake of Sam's tongue trailing over some sensitive spots.  "God, Sam."  He dropped a hand in Sam's hair, alternately ruffling it and threading his fingers through it to massage Sam's scalp.

Sam looked up from somewhere near Dean's navel and smiled at him.  "What's the matter, Dean?  Don't you like this?"  He tongued just above Dean's cock and inhaled his scent with pleasure.

"Oh, I do.  Like it a lot, Sammy."  Dean wriggled slightly under Sam, settling into a more comfortable position, his hand gentling on Sam's head to trail through the silky strands.  "It's just not something I thought to have."

Sam nibbled at Dean's navel and then kissed the spot.  "What do you want, Dean?"

Dean grinned, trailing his hand over Sam's head and then tugging on one lock of hair.  "Want you up here, with me.  Want to sleep now, and then I want to wake up with you not thinking about Vegas or buses."

Sam slid up and lay down next to Dean, arms going around his waist like second nature.  "And then what?"

"We'll figure out tomorrow when we wake up, Sam."  Dean grinned and leaned in for a kiss.  He meant to brush his lips over Sam's, but couldn't resist the fact that he was able to delve deeper into Sam's mouth.

Sliding his fingers in Dean's hair, Sam held him close and tangled their tongues in a complex and erotic dance.  He pulled away only when his lungs felt like exploding.  "Love you, Dean."

"Love you too, Sammy."  Dean sighed, closed his eyes and buried his nose in Sam's hair with a smile.  He moved slightly, tangling their legs together and curling into his brother's body. Sam felt right in a way Dean hadn't even known he was missing. Everything else could wait. Tonight, they had each other and that was enough.


End file.
